


This House Has Many Rooms

by tanwencooper



Series: Busy Making Other Plans [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Moving In Together, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Rebuilt Hale House, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanwencooper/pseuds/tanwencooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College done, Stiles is finally moving in with Derek. One stage of his life done, Stiles looks forward to the future, the future he plans on building with Derek and the pack in the house Derek has built for them all. But for other members of the pack the future is already happening and the house is ready, waiting for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This House Has Many Rooms

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS TOTALLY STAND ALONE however it is set in the [ Three Times A Lady 'Verse ](http://archiveofourown.org/series/31022). This series is an off shoot of that, following their lives afterwards.

            Stiles looked down at the caller ID and frowned. It was Boyd. That was rarely a good sign. He still kept in contact with Boyd and Erica but it was more the Facebook and email, I’ll text you when I’m in town and we’ll go to the movies kind of contact. If he was calling that probably meant something was wrong.

            “Hey, everything alright?” he asked.

            “Hey Batman!” came the voice of Erica on the other end of the line, surprising him. Oh yeah, that was right. It was their home phone number, he just had it down as Boyd in his contacts. She sounded bright and airy, relieving his fears that anything was wrong. Plus she’d called him Batman. Nothing could be wrong when Batman was on the case.

            “Erica! What’s up?” he asked.

            “I was just calling to see when you were moving back?”

            “I was literally just packing up the last of my boxes when you called,” said Stiles.

            He looked around the room that he’d lived in for the last three of college. With all of his things neatly boxed and packed away he could see the marks he would leave forever on this room: the stain on the carpet from when his housemates had decided that tequila shots and wine were a good mixture; the shoddily put up wall paper to cover where a possessed seven year old had vomited acid all over the wall; the nicks in the windowsill where various people had slunk through his window late at night. That was apparently not just a Derek thing. It wasn’t even just a werewolf thing. There must have been something about Stiles’ windows that invited people to climb through them.

            “Is Derek there yet?” Erica asked.

            “Any minute now,” he replied. There was too much here for one car load. Stiles was a hoarder and as most of what he’d hoarded over his college years was supernatural related paraphernalia (potions and powders, books and bestiaries, an arsenal of weapons and ceremonial knives as well as a few other items that were entirely unclassifiable) they decided it was probably best not to leave it on the corner or donate it to Good Will. So he’d bought a trailer and Derek was flying over so the two of them could drive back together. Stiles was always surprised that Derek didn’t kill them whenever they went on road trips but they seemed to work together. Stiles would chatter and sing along to the radio and Derek would zen out and ignore him, lulled by the unchanging tarmac underneath them. Their relationship really was a match made in Heaven. Or Nirvana, or Valhalla, or whichever one turned out to actually be right at the end of this crazy ride called life.

            “Okay. So you should be back by the 14th?”

            “Unless we get seriously lost and come back via Alaska, we should be.”

            They were taking a slightly scenic route because Stiles absolutely had to go see the world’s biggest frying pan, come on Derek, it’ll be awesome. He had also recently learned that Derek had never been to the Grand Canyon or Monument Valley, a fact that shocked Stiles to his core. Some of his best childhood memories were tied to those places and the vacation he’d spent there with his parents. He wanted to share those memories with Derek.

            “Great!” said Erica. “Me and Boyd are having a party. You and Derek are coming.”

            It wasn’t a question. Not that Stiles would have said no but he knew that attendance wasn’t optional. If he ended up in intensive care between now and then, which given he was Stiles was entirely likely, they would steal him from the hospital and prop him up in the corner. That level of not optional.

            “Sure,” he said. “I’ll make sure Derek knows. What’s the occasion?”

            Erica hesitated a beat.

            “The fact that everyone will be home at the same time for once. I thought the Pack returning to Beacon Hills was an event worthy of a party.”

            Stiles didn’t know what this was really all about but he was pretty sure that wasn’t the real reason for the party. Still, he let it lie. He knew better than to cross Erica when she had a scheme in mind, as much as his curiosity might be screaming at him to prod and poke for every bit of useful information.

            “Okay. Cool. Sounds great. I’ll be there.”

            Erica signed off with a promise to send him the details and then hung up. Stiles returned to taping up his boxes and within ten minutes the last one was totally packed up.

            It was then that it hit him. He was going home. After four years, he was going back home. He’d loved college and would miss the friends he’d made here like hell but he _was going home!_ He hadn’t realised how much he missed being home until now, when it was only a few weeks away. It was an ache he hadn’t realised he’d been feeling for the past four years but had always been there in the background. Life at college was so transient. People came and went with every fresh intake and graduation and while he’d been in the same house with the same people for three years there was always the knowledge that it was just a house. It wasn’t a home. They all knew it was temporary.

            It was even stranger because he wasn’t moving back in with his Dad. Instead all of his things were going straight back to Derek’s house. After six years of being together they were actually, officially, going to _live_ together. It was true that when he came home for the holidays he spent more of his time at Derek’s than at his childhood home. He would spend as much time with his Dad as he could but when he headed off to work Stiles would head over to Derek’s. He’d begun to think of the Hale house as home as much as he thought of the house he grew up in. It was still strange to think that it would be his _home_ home though. The one on his driver’s licence, that he’d get sent bills to and the one that was on all his forms. Stiles was a mixture of excited and terrified.

            He remembered the first time he’d seen the building whole after the rebuild. It had been Derek’s project the first year that they’d all scattered to go to college. When Stiles came home at Christmas there was less to see than before as Derek had gutted everything that wouldn’t be staying, tearing out walls, floors and much abused staircases. Pretty much all that was left at that point was the basement and foundations. It was completely unliveable, even by Derek’s standards, and he’d nearly gotten an apartment of his own before Stiles’ Dad offered him the spare room, as much to Stiles’ surprise as to Derek. It seemed Derek wasn’t the only one who was missing the screaming ball of energy that was Stiles.

            Derek was enrolled in police academy by that point and the two of them would sit up late into the evening, Stiles’ Dad helping Derek to study for his exams while refreshing his own memory. Stiles had found them huddled together in the lull between Christmas and New Year, his Dad quizzing Derek on call signs, as proud when Derek aced it as he would have been if they’d actually been father and son. The sight nearly made Stiles cry with happiness but instead he’d flicked popcorn at Derek’s head and called him a nerd.

            Spring break had been spent travelling the East Coast with Derek, so it was six months before he saw the house again. Derek had blindfolded him and led him up to the house before letting him see. It was stunning. He’d seen pictures of what it had looked like before the fire and it wasn’t exactly the same. Derek had put his own spin on it, explaining he’d changed the floor plan a bit to make it better for a pack of werewolves, the house hadn’t been purpose built for the Hales the first time. He made sure there was enough room for everyone plus any others who might join the pack over the coming years. The fact that Derek felt comfortable enough to plan years in advance, rather than just days, made Stiles want to kiss him and never stop.

            “Come on,” Derek had whispered, “I want to show you to our room.”

            _Our_ room. Stiles liked that. From that point on it wasn’t the Hale house anymore. It was the Pack house.

            Back in the present day Stiles finished taping up the last box, looking out the window to see a taxi. Derek got out, searching the windows until he saw Stiles and waved with a smile.

            Stiles bolted down the stairs and leapt at his boyfriend, hugging him in that way he always did when he saw him for the first time in however many months; too tight and too long, both of them breathing in each other deeply as they confirmed to themselves that, yes, they were here. They were real.

            “Ready to move in with a surly werewolf?” Derek said with a smile that threw the surly comment right out of the window.

            “Are you?” Stiles asked. “Because I am telling you, you are not going to know what hit you.”

 

****

 

            Three weeks later Stiles had fully moved in to the Pack house. His Dad had tried hard not to be upset when Stiles came round to fetch the last of his things, the things he’d not taken to college. Stiles had pointed out that he was only going to be living a twenty minute drive away, that both he and Derek would be over for blueberry pancakes every Sunday morning and it wasn’t like he’d been living at home for the past four years anyway. He hadn’t emptied his old room though, not completely. There were still a few posters up on the wall, a change of clothes in the closet and he’d left the sheets on his bed, so that he hadn’t really left, at least not forever.

            His Dad had hugged the pair of them on the door step, pulling Derek in when he tried to slink away and leave them to their father-son time. That was when Stiles had actually started crying.

            “Where the hell did you put my razor Stiles!” Derek yelled from the en suite bathroom while Stiles sat up in bed reading. Apparently Derek’s sexy stubble didn’t just automatically sprout from his face like that. It required a lot more maintenance than Stiles had ever appreciated. He’d thought he’d known everything there was to know about Derek, but in these last few weeks living together they’d learned a hundred new things about each other. They were still adjusting to this new life, revelling in each morning they got to look at each other’s face when they woke up and having long arguments about whether the mayonnaise belonged in the cupboard or in the refrigerator. They were working it out though, and Stiles was looking to finding out more, both good and bad.

            “It’s in the cabinet,” Stiles called, “where it’s supposed to be.”

            “I’m looking in the cabinet. It’s not here.”

            “The other cabinet,” said Stiles with exasperation.

            There was a brief moment of scuffling and a minute later Stiles heard the buzz of Derek shaving.

            “Why thank you Stiles,” said Stiles under his breath. “I don’t know what I’d do without you Stiles. Thank you for helping my find where I put my own damn razor.”

            “I can hear you!” Derek called.

            “That is kind of the point!”

            Stiles was half way through making breakfast when Erica and Boyd swanned in unannounced. It wasn’t uncommon for that to happen. While Isaac was the only member of the Pack who actually lived in the house with them they all had a room set aside for them and they would often come and go as they pleased. Erica and Boyd had gone to school near-by and so had lived together for years, while Scott and Allison were in much the same position as Derek and Stiles, but in their apartment on the other side of town. Lydia and Jackson were still looking for somewhere to live. They never seemed to agree on any place but Stiles suspected that really it was that they wanted to live somewhere better than their budget allowed. They were too used to the finer things in life. Isaac was the only one of them whose high-school relationship hadn’t lasted through the trials of college. The strains of a long distance relationship with a werewolf had been too much for Danny, and they’d split whilst they could still be friends.

            “Is Derek around,” Erica asked, sniffing the air for her alpha.

            “He’s getting dressed for work,” said Stiles.

            “Don’t you have one of those you should be doing sometimes soon?” Boyd niggled.

            “Ha ha,” said Stiles. “I can’t start at the academy until I’m 23, so I’m taking a few months to recharge my batteries.”

            Stiles had had a job at the FBI lined up for him since he was sixteen when his long lost aunt had informed him he was part of an ancient order of supernatural police, the Weisse Rat. The fact that this wasn’t the oddest thing to happen in Stiles’ life, not by a long chalk, worried him slightly but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They weren’t forcing him to join and he’d dreamed of being an agent since he was little and used to watch cop shows with his Dad. In truth he was going to be more of a supernatural consultant and liaison than an agent but he’d take it. Normally he’d have to move to another city and spend months in Washington DC training, but he was allowed to go where he wanted and skip most of the training do to some long standing understanding between the Weisse Rat and the US government.

            “Mr Big FBI agent,” said Erica. “Will you have to wear a suit every day?”

            “I hope so,” said Derek, walking up behind Stiles and kissing him on the temple before plucking a rasher of bacon off the stove and biting into it. Boiling grease burned his finger, raising huge blisters that disappeared almost instantly. “I like my man in a suit.”

            Stiles watched as Derek walked over to the coffee machine. He wondered if he’d ever get over how good Derek’s ass looked in those pants. At first it had been a little weird to find Derek in his cop uniform so damn attractive, too many memories of his father wearing it, but Stiles soon got over it. As much as Stiles hated to let Derek go to work, he loved to watch him leave. He wasn’t the only one to think so. Somehow, Sheila from the station had persuaded Derek to pose for the Beacon Hills Emergency Hunks Charity Calander every year since he’d started. Stiles still couldn’t work out how she’d done it. He assumed witchcraft or extortion. Potentially both. Either way, it was permanently September in this house so that Derek’s ripped torso was constantly stuck up on the refrigerator.

            “Good,” said Erica, “because he’ll be wearing one on Saturday.”

            “Oh, it’s your big welcome home party on Saturday isn’t it,” said Stiles suddenly excited.

            “Yeah,” said Boyd slowly. “About that…”

            “Can we have it here?” Erica cut over him. “Only the venue fell through because of something to do with mice and now we have all these people coming and catering is all sorted out and nowhere to put it all and this is the only place that’s big enough so can we please do it here?”

            Derek and Stiles looked at her, then at each other, then back to her. That was a lot of things in a very short space of time.

            “You don’t have to pretend to look so desperate,” said Derek. “You know I would never say no.”

            “Thank you. Told you so,” Erica informed Boyd calmly.

            “You have catering to a welcome home party?” Stiles scoffed.

            Erica looked sheepishly at Boyd.

            “It’s not really a welcome home party,” he said.

            “Really. I never would have guessed,” said Stiles robotically to emphasise the depths of his sarcasm.

            “What is it then,” Derek asked. “If it’s in my house I’d think I deserve to know.”

            Erica took a deep breath and steeled herself.

            “We’re getting married.”

            Stiles spun around from the stove to gawp at her.

            “You’re what?”

            “Getting married.”

            “You’re getting married. This is a wedding. A wedding here? At this house? For you?”

            “That was kind of the idea.”

            “Congratulations,” said Derek walking up behind them and pulling them both into a big hug. Derek hugged a lot more these days. Stiles had reminded him how to do it.

            “Thanks dude,” said Boyd with a little bit of relief. “We were worried that, I don’t know, you might be pissed that we didn’t tell you. Like am I supposed to ask the alpha’s permission to marry his beta?”

            “You are one of my betas too Boyd. No, don’t be ridiculous, I’m happy for the two of you, seriously.”

            “Hey! Stiles is pissed!” said Stiles. “Stiles wants to know why he is only just finding out about this now?”

            “We wanted it to be a surprise!” said Erica. “If it wasn’t my Mom would want to get involved and she’s totally crazy and wouldn’t settle for anything less than horse drawn carriages and doves. This is better. Plus everyone would be wanting to know what the rush was.”

            “What is the rush?” Stiles asked before remembering when they’d come round for dinner last week. Though she couldn’t get drunk, Erica had always enjoyed drinking half a bottle of wine with every meal but last week she’d turned it down.

            Stiles pointed at her in accusation.

            “Oh my god, you’re pregnant.”

            Erica and Boyd didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to. Their faces said it all.

            “Oh my god,” said Stiles. “Oh my god, oh my god! Are you freaking out here Derek, I am totally freaking out here.”

            Stiles turned to his boyfriend. He was looking at Erica with a vulnerability that Stiles was certain no one besides him had ever been allowed to see. He was fluttering his eyes, as if trying to blink back tears and his jaw was relaxed.

            “Are you?” he asked, almost shyly.

            Erica nodded.

            “There’s going to be a baby?”

            “Yeah Derek,” said Erica, “there’s going to be a baby.”

            Derek turned sharply so that they couldn’t see his face, hand shooting to his eyes. Stiles pulled both Erica and Boyd into a hug, giving Derek a moment to compose himself. It only took a few seconds before Derek was piling in on the hug. When they broke apart he had a huge smile on his face.

            “We’re having a baby!” said Derek. “I mean the Pack, I know it’s yours. It’s kind of a big deal, when you get a new little one in a pack. I put in extra rooms for a reason but I didn’t think we’d be using them this soon. Your apartment is way too small for a baby.”

            “Yeah we know,” said Boyd. “This wasn’t exactly planned. We have a few things we need to work out. First is the whole wedlock thing.”

            “You should stay here,” Derek said. “We’ve got loads of room, there’ll always be someone round to baby sit and I won’t charge you rent so you can save for somewhere bigger.”

            Stiles watched Derek as the happy couple calmed him down. There was plenty of time to think about stuff like that in the future. Derek was as happy as if he’d just found out he was going to be a Dad himself.

            Stiles felt a sudden pang in his gut, a sorrow he’d never felt before. Him and Derek would never have this feeling for themselves. They would never be stood in the kitchen talking about due dates and how far along they were. This wasn’t something that they could give to each other. Even if one day they adopted or had a surrogate, it wouldn’t be the same. Stiles had never thought about kids before now, not in any serious way. Now wasn’t a good time to start thinking about that though.

            “You’re both bitten,” Derek was telling them. He was pulling a face like he was trying to remember something from school. “So I think that means there’s a 1 in 4 chance the baby will be a werewolf. We won’t know for sure either way until they hit puberty, that’s when the changes start to happen and the accelerated healing kicks in. Before then they might just have a really strong immune system or be good at sports or something.”

            Eventually they managed to get Derek back on track, talking about times and schedules for the wedding that weekend before Derek realised he was late for work and had to run, leaving Stiles and the happy couple to sort everything out.

            When Derek came home that evening he plonked himself down on the sofa next to Stiles with a contented sigh.

            “A baby,” he said.

            “Yeah. Thanks for pimping out _our_ home to the screaming bundle of joy by the way.”

            “Oh you don’t mind,” Derek informed Stiles. “Besides. This is the Pack’s house. They’re Pack. The baby is Pack.”

            “It’s the principle,” Stiles said before collapsing back into the nook of Derek’s shoulder. “I can’t believe Erica and Boyd are getting _married_ let alone are going to be parents. I always thought that it would be Scott and Allison who did that first.”

            “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before, to be honest,” said Derek. “Even if you’ve found your anchor the full moon can take away some of your self-control. It was only a matter of time before someone got knocked up.”

            Stiles knew about the full moon thing. Full moon sex was good sex. Slightly scary, totally out of control, make sure there’s a bottle of wolf’s bane on the nightstand sex, but good none the less.

            “You really like the idea of there being a kid running around,” Stiles said.

            “There always used to be kids running around this house,” said Derek. The floor in the living room had been salvaged from the old house, with most of the scorch marks buffed out. Stiles imagined Derek and Laura’s tiny feet pitter pattering across the boards. “Used to drive me nuts when I was fifteen but I kind of miss it sometimes and it’s not like we’re-”

            Derek stopped that sentence short. Stiles snuggled in closer.

            “There are ways,” Stiles said quietly.

            “I know. We’ll talk about it some other time.”

            Stiles wasn’t sure if ‘some other time’ was going to be in a few days or in a few years, but he didn’t really mind. He wasn’t even 23 yet. That wasn’t something he needed to think about just yet.

            “Oh, I was supposed to ask. Are there any werewolf marriage rituals? Erica and Boyd wanted to know.”

            “They did?” he asked. It still made Derek happy whenever his Pack embraced their werewolfitude. “Yeah. There are. I’ll make a list.”

            Stiles smiled up at him and kissed Derek. He wanted to get a look at that list. One day, admittedly a day several years from now, Stiles wanted to work his way down that list with Derek. He’d never say so to Derek because he knew Derek well enough to not talk about things like that. Stiles just needed to be older for that kind of commitment. Derek needed to be ready and Stiles knew that Derek might never be ready. As long as Stiles got to keep him though, he was fine with that.

            That night they went to bed and they made love for hours, content and happy in the little family they had built. Together

 

*****

 

            The wedding was, in many respects, a disaster.

            When they’d revealed that his was a wedding rather than just a party it had taken all of five seconds for someone to reach the same conclusion that Stiles had done. Erica’s mother, every bit as crazy as Erica had said, had had a screaming match with Boyd’s father, calling his son a good for nothing who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. This led to a cross ways fight between the families, each yelling at the other about whose fault this was until Erica and Boyd and screamed at them both to shut the hell up, could they not just be happy for them.

            The peace had lasted until two minutes into ceremony before one of the catering tables collapsed, shattering every single one of the champagne flutes. One of the waiters leg was injured so badly he had to get taken to the ER and in the resulting hubbub the Boyd’s and the Reyes’ got into another argument, this time so heated that Derek had to step in to split them up.

            Eventually they managed to get through the ceremony. While their friends were all having a good time, the families were continually bitching about how ‘aunt Mary-Margret is going to be so annoyed she didn’t get invited’, that there wasn’t enough places to sit, and wasn’t this house just a bit plain for a wedding.

            It was mid-afternoon before the first person started complaining they felt queasy. Within an hour half the guests, including Stiles, were expelling their stomach contents out of one end or the other. Stiles would work out later, using the amazing reasoning skills that the FBI were so keen to utilise, that the shrimp was to blame. Boyd asserted that it was dangerous for Erica to be around so many sick people in her condition and the two of them had promptly escaped. Stiles wasn’t really sure what happened after that point because he’d shut himself in the bathroom and refused to let anyone in apart from Derek, who brought him some flat ginger ale to help settle his stomach.

            It was alright though, because Erica and Boyd were already married in all the ways that mattered to them. Two nights before, Deaton had performed a traditionally hand fasting ceremony under the full moon, all the Pack surrounding them as they gathered in the yard of the house. They’d bound themselves together and sworn to belong to no other for the rest of their days. Derek had given them his blessing and then when the ceremony was done, the Pack howled together, announcing to the world that he was hers and she was his, from now until the end of time.


End file.
